An old table in the middle of the room I pulled over to the
chimney, tugged at some of the brick that I had noticed, and the whole
thing caved in, part of a heliograph outfit falling out. The old fellow
made a dart for the door, but was peremptorily intercepted. "Damn you,
stay where you are!" I pulled out the rest of the stuff; there was a
complete heliograph apparatus, and a little red cap, such as the
Algerians wear, satisfying us both that the man doing the work used the
uniform of an Algerian.
On leaving the room, carrying the stuff with us and going down stairs,
we saw a box against the wall and I heard a funny noise from it as if it
contained something alive. I pulled it out and found it full of pigeons.
"Who owns these?" I asked.
"An Algerian soldier left them there," he answered.
We then examined the cellar and entire basement, but found nothing
further. We took the old fellow over to the gendarme who immediately
took charge of him, and returned to the battery where we imparted the
news of our find. It was the consensus of opinion that the spy was the
farmer himself, and that the Algerian uniform was a blind.
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